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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26177935">Last Waiter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrasprinkles/pseuds/lyrasprinkles'>lyrasprinkles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Dishwasher Reader, F/M, Fluff, Levi is Bad At Feelings (Shingeki no Kyojin), POV Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Waiter Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:28:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26177935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrasprinkles/pseuds/lyrasprinkles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi hates working at Paradis Pies. He especially hates having to stick around after everyone else leaves as last waiter.</p><p>But, when a new kitchenhand is hired, he can't help but want to stay,</p><p>(Restaurant AU)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader, Levi/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>172</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Last Waiter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Apologies in advance to anyone named Karen, Greg, Stacey or Kyle.</p><p>I feel like I write Levi to be a lot politer than he usually is, but I like to think that, in a modern setting, he'll have more of a reason to be nice, as his childhood wouldn't be as rough? Idk.</p><p>Anyway, here's some Waiter Levi fluff. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s another busy night at Paradis Pies for Levi Ackerman.</p><p>To be fair, most nights at the restaurant are like this. Working at a 24-hour restaurant isn’t easy, especially not for him. He’s a full-time university student juggling a double major workload and living by himself, which means dealing with other aspects of adulting such as grocery shopping, cooking and paying bills. If this was any other job, he probably wouldn’t hate it as much.</p><p>Other jobs have sensible hours; most restaurants in the area open before lunchtime and close after dinner service, allowing their staff to begin and end work at normal hours and live normal lives. But noooo, he just <em>has</em> to work at the one restaurant that’s always open and is constantly teeming with fuckwits who’ve probably been born just to torment him.</p><p>And, to make matters worse, he’s recently been working the last waiter shift at the restaurant, which is exactly what it sounds like. Despite being open at all hours, the restaurant can’t afford to have wait staff working all through the night when there’s barely any customers. What they do, instead, is have one waiter stay back from the dinner shift to help the minimal staff working on the graveyard shift until the rush goes away. Since working this shift, Levi has never been home earlier than four-thirty in the morning – which sucks for him, because he’s an early riser and therefore doesn’t get much sleep. The customers are also generally drunker, ruder and <em>messier</em>. He frequently comes home with pie filling on his shirt and crust in this hair because some drunken slobs decided to have a food fight with their mates. Has he mentioned he hates this shift?</p><p>“Have I mentioned I hate this shift?” he murmurs to Hange as he clears up Table 6.</p><p>Hange sighs loudly from Table 1, where she’s going over a few papers. “You <em>literally</em> just got in. What happened now?”</p><p>Before he can answer, a loud voice calls out to him. “Excuse me, waiter!”</p><p>He turns around to Table 4, where a group of Karens are seated. All four of them have their hands raised in the air. “Excuse me. Waiter!” they call shrilly. “Waiter! Excuse me!”</p><p>Trying his best not to roll his eyes, he puts on a polite smile as he goes to attend to them.</p><p>“And that’s why I hate this shift,” he tells Hange, as he returns after checking on them (“We just wanted to confirm that the gluten-free pies are indeed gluten-free? Because Susan here can’t have gluten, she bloats <em>terribly</em> if she does.”)</p><p>Even though Hange is the Assistant Manager and is technically his boss, she’s still the only person at this place he’ll talk to like this. They’ve been friends before they both began working here, and she’s the one who got him the job. But she’s also responsible for sticking him on this shift, and he has never failed to tell her how much he resents her for it.</p><p>She rolls her eyes. “We’ve been over this, Levi,” she says tiredly. “If Eren hadn’t left us –”</p><p>He snorts. “You mean if the Yeager brat hadn’t betrayed us to work at the Rumbling Ribs across the street.”</p><p>Hange gives him a small smile. “That, yes. This was always Eren’s shift. We’re short-staffed now that he’s gone, and you already know no one else wants to do this shift, so…”</p><p>“So, you’re taking advantage of our friendship and getting me to do it,” he says. “Dick move, Shitty Glasses.”</p><p>“Oh, come on, Levi,” she says. “It’s only for a few weeks, until we hire someone else or get someone to swap with you. Besides, Sasha’s already said she’d be happy to do your shift if you do hers!”</p><p>The only thing worse than working the last waiter shift from ten to four in the morning is working the graveyard shift from midnight to morning like Sasha does. He knows that, as does Hange, and that’s why she keeps reminding him of it.</p><p>“No thanks,” he says. He stacks the dirty plates on his arm. “I’d rather –”</p><p>“Excuse me!” The Karens are calling him again, their voices shriller than the last time. “Excuse me! WAITER!”</p><p>He sighs. Giving Hange one last dirty look, he goes back to check on them.</p><p>***</p><p>“I need this job,” he mutters to himself as he walks back into the kitchen holding Table 3’s dirty dishes. The Karens had all been commenting on what a “sweet” boy he was, and they had the <em>audacity</em> to touch him and pinch his cheeks like he was a toddler. “I need this job. I can’t quit, I need this job. I need this job. I need this job.”</p><p>As he walks into the dishes section at the back of the kitchen to clear and put away the plates, he hears someone else going through a similar dilemma. “I need this job. I need this job. I need this job.”</p><p>He stops in his tracks to stare at her. It’s the new kitchenhand, or “dishie” as they are affectionately called around here. He had seen her earlier when he had entered but hadn’t taken much notice of her. It’s obviously her first day, as he’s never seen her before today. She’s bent over the sink. Dirty plates and glasses are stacked high to her left, utensils behind her. She’s clearly not doing her job well, as all she seems to be doing at the moment is crying, muttering about how much she needs her job, instead of actually doing something about the mess next to her.</p><p>“I have to be strong,” she whispers to herself. “I need this job. It’s my first day, I can’t give up yet. I need this job.” Tears roll down her cheeks and straight into the sink.</p><p>He continues to watch, dirty dishes in his arms and eyebrows raised, until she realises that someone is standing next to her.</p><p>“Shit,” she mutters, hastily wiping the tears off her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m not – I didn’t – I was just –”</p><p>He shrugs. Ignoring her words, he quietly clears the plates and puts them away, not bothering to look at her.</p><p>***</p><p>The next time he goes in the back, she’s hard at work, as if trying to make up for her outburst earlier. “Oh, it’s you,” she says, while he clears the plates he’s holding. “I was waiting for you to come back. I want to apologise for before. I’m so embarrassed you saw me freaking out like that. It’s my first day and I’m so overwhelmed. I’ve never worked at a job like this before, and I really need the money to…”</p><p>He places the dirty dishes on her bench and cuts her off before she can say anything else. “I don’t care.”</p><p>The girl stares at him, her eyes wide. “Huh?”</p><p>“I don’t care,” he repeats, fixing her with a hard stare. He knows he’s being harsh, but he’s telling the truth – he really doesn’t. “I don’t care about your personal problems. Right now, you have a fucking job to do, so do it well. If you can’t, then quit.”</p><p>Her mouth falls open. He quickly turns around and walks away.</p><p>The rest of the shift passes by uneventfully. He continues to be tormented by Karens and Gregs and Drunk Kyles, which keep him busy enough to not have to think about the girl crying over dirty dishes. When he’s at the back, she does not attempt to talk to him nor look at him, and neither does he.</p><p>***</p><p>When he walks into the restaurant the next night to begin his shift, he notices the same girl is back, scrubbing hard at a dirty pan. Her pile looks a lot smaller than it did yesterday. Her face is puffed with the amount of effort she’s putting into working as fast as she can, as her job is one that heavily relies on speed, and there is a flash of determination in her eyes. His words yesterday hadn’t made her quit – not that he cared. If anything, they seemed to have spurred her into action, causing her to work harder and faster than she did yesterday.</p><p>He’s pleased. He gives her a small, approving smile when she looks up at him, one that she shyly returns.</p><p>***</p><p>As his shift goes on, he continues to watch the girl in dishes. He notices that most of the staff don’t speak to her – not that he is one to talk, as neither does he. Dishies are usually neither seen nor heard – they’re only judged by the speed at which they churn out clean plates and cups. He can’t blame his co-workers, either – most of them are too stressed out and harried to converse with each other. She’s also extremely frantic, too busy spraying down dirty dishes to say anything to the people bringing them to her.</p><p>He watches as she tries to stack glasses into a plastic tray to load into the dishwasher. One of them slips from her hand, shattering loudly on the floor.</p><p>Her eyes immediately begin to water. Gritting her teeth hard, she picks up a broom and a dustpan and angrily sweeps up the pieces of glass.</p><p>An idea strikes him.</p><p>He quickly puts his dishes away and makes his way to the bar. Armin works on the weekends and is one of the few people at this place that Levi can stand.</p><p>“Oi, Blondie,” he says, fixing the blond boy with a piercing stare. “Make me a milkshake.”</p><p>Armin frowns. He puts down the jug of milk he’s holding. “A milkshake?” he repeats, surprised. “Since when do you drink milkshakes, Levi? You hate that stuff!”</p><p>He rolls his eyes. “Just make it,” he snaps. Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Please.”</p><p>Armin raises his eyebrows, but nods. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll make it when I finish up my orders. What flavour would you like?”</p><p>Levi bites the inside of his lip. He thinks about the girl in the back, washing dirty dishes. She looks like a [favourite flavour] kind of girl. He doesn’t know why he feels that way, but he has a hunch he’s right. “[Flavour],” he tells Armin.</p><p>When Armin places the final product on the bar counter for him, he immediately snatches it up and takes it to the back. She raises an eyebrow at him curiously, watching as he places the takeaway cup on the clean bench to her right.</p><p>“For you,” he tells her. “It’s a [flavour] milkshake.”</p><p>“Oh,” she says, her mouth falling open in surprise. “That’s really nice of you! Thanks, uh…”</p><p>“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he informs her. “Armin at the bar messed up an order. He didn’t want to waste it, so he asked me to give it to you.”</p><p>He walks away before she can say anything else. He doesn’t speak to her the next time he comes in, but he notices an empty takeaway cup in the trash, and he smiles to himself.</p><p>However, towards the end of the shift when the kitchen and the bar are being cleaned to be handed over to the people taking over, he walks into the back with dirty dishes in his hands and overhears her talking to Armin.</p><p>“Thanks for the milkshake earlier,” she’s telling him. “I mean, thanks for thinking of me and not throwing away that drink you made by mistake. Your kindness has definitely made my night better. And, um,” she adds shyly, “it was [flavour], which is my favourite!”</p><p>He bites his lip. Crap. He did not expect her to actually thank Armin and for his secret to be found out. He braces himself, expecting Armin to tell her the truth.</p><p>To his surprise, Armin says, “That’s okay! You’re welcome to come to me anytime you want a drink, all right?”</p><p>He sighs with relief. He’s about to put the plates away when Armin turns around to make his way back to the bar.</p><p>Armin notices him hiding behind the wall with dirty dishes in his hands. A shit-eating grin appears on his face. Before Levi can tell him to go fuck himself, he disappears.</p><p>Shaking his head, he walks into the back to clear the plates. He glances at the girl washing dishes. She isn’t looking at him, but there’s a smile on her face and he can’t help but smile too.</p><p>***</p><p>The next day, he notices she’s working again. They appear to have the same shifts – Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights, the busiest shifts of the week. She looks much more relaxed than she was before. Then he notices that she’s got a little Bluetooth speaker on the shelf behind her, with music playing softly. The music seems to be relaxing her, allowing her to work more efficiently. He nods along to the song. It’s familiar – it’s his guilty pleasure song, from a genre that he would rather die than admit to being a fan of. When she looks up at him and smiles on seeing him, he says, “I like this song.”</p><p>She nods happily. “Me too,” she says. “I’m a huge fan of [genre] music, and this is one of my favourites.”</p><p>He nods back. “You’ve got good taste,” he says, before making his way to the staff room to put away his coat.</p><p>They don’t speak after that, but she continues to work smoothly and smile the whole time, which makes him want to smile, too.</p><p>***</p><p>The next week passes slowly. Levi continues to struggle with his daily routine, managing classes, assignments, extra-curricular activities, adulting and his social life before Friday could come and Paradis Pies could take it all away again. However, for the first time, he finds that he isn’t dreading the last waiter shift this week.</p><p>He wonders why. Then he randomly thinks of a certain kitchenhand and smiles to himself.</p><p>When he’s back at the restaurant on Friday, he’s pleased to see her again with her music on. She’s got a different song playing this time. He doesn’t recognise it, but he still enjoys it.</p><p>Maybe he’ll ask her for music recommendations. That would be a good way to start a conversation, wouldn’t it?</p><p>However, every time he walks into the back, intending to ask her what she’s listening to and if she can recommend something to him, he gets tongue-tied. He finishes his shift and goes home, ashamed of himself and his inability to start a goddamned conversation.</p><p>***</p><p>On his next shift, Armin motions to him to come into the bar while he’s hard at work on the floor, dealing with a drunk Stacey. When he goes to see what he wants, Armin discreetly sets down a takeaway cup at the edge of the bar counter, giving him a wink.</p><p>He rolls his eyes. “What’s that for?” he asks.</p><p>The barista smirks. “It’s a [flavour] milkshake,” he says.</p><p>Levi glares at him. “And why are you giving it to me?” he asks him.</p><p>Armin shrugs innocently. “I made it by mistake,” he insists. “I didn’t throw it away because I thought you might want it.”</p><p>Even though he’s sure Armin is lying, he gives him one final steely-eyed glare before grabbing the cup and marching into the back.</p><p>“Here,” he tells the girl, placing the drink on the clean bench to her right again.</p><p>She rolls her eyes. “Armin needs to stop making these mistakes,” she says, but she’s smiling fondly to herself.</p><p>He takes the moment to comment on the song she’s currently got playing. “What’s this one called?” he asks, nodding at her speaker.</p><p>She brightens up. “Oh, that’s by [Artist] and it’s my favourite song!” She quickly tells him all about the music she’s listening to. He nods, then asks about other artists within the same genre. She happily launches into a detailed explanation, and he listens intently.</p><p>They talk for a while, both forgetting they’re currently at work. “You know,” she says finally, “if you’re interested in getting into this genre, I can make you a playlist of songs I would recommend. What do you say, uh…” she trails off, then gives a small laugh. “Sorry. I’ve been talking to you all this while and I don’t even know your name!”</p><p>“Levi,” he tells her. “Levi Ackerman.”</p><p>“Cool,” she nods. “I’m [Name]. [Name] [Last name].”</p><p>He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can utter a word, the cook, Mikasa, storms into the back.</p><p>She glares at him. “I know you’re friends with Hange and she won’t say anything to you, but I’ve got food sitting on the counter for the past ten minutes, waiting to be run.”</p><p>He clicks his tongue but nods. Mikasa’s right. As much as he would like to continue talking to this dishie – who he has now learned is called [Name] [Last name] – he’s still on the clock and has a job to do. Giving [Name] an apologetic glance, he rushes to the kitchen counter.</p><p>***</p><p>They are finally on a first-name basis. He greets her when he comes in the next day, and she says, “Hi, Levi!” when she spots him. He compliments her on her work performance, noting how far she’s come in a week, and she compliments his ascot tie.</p><p>Needless to say, he is extremely pleased.</p><p>His shift is about to end. He’s making his way to the kitchen, ready to put away the last few plates of the night, when he overhears Connie talking to [Name].</p><p>Connie is the cook on the graveyard shift and will be the sole employee in the kitchen after [Name] finishes, while Sasha takes care of the front. Levi’s shift usually ends with him cleaning up the tables and handing over to Sasha, while [Name] does the dishes to hand over to Connie. Of course, given that her job relies on speed and fully depends on how busy the night was, she always finishes after him.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what the Uber driver last night said, too,” she tells Connie, giving a small laugh.</p><p>Levi shrugs and clears the plates, while Connie and [Name] continue to talk about something an Uber driver said.</p><p>When he leaves the kitchen, he finally realises what she had just said. Uber driver. She took an Uber home last night. There’s a good chance that she doesn’t have a car or doesn’t drive, and as there is no public transport available this early in the morning, she ends up getting an Uber, which is probably very expensive.</p><p>“I’ve cleared all the tables,” he tells Sasha. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”</p><p>Sasha, who had been chopping strawberries (while putting most of them in her mouth), shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good,” she says. “You can finish now.”</p><p>Levi purses his lips.</p><p>“Do you have a lot of prep to do tonight?” he asks her.</p><p>As the graveyard shift is nowhere near as busy as the day and night shifts, Sasha and Connie usually do all the prep for that day on their shift. This involves making pie fillings, prepping ingredients and pre-making certain items.</p><p>“Maybe,” she says. “Why?”</p><p>“I’ll help you out,” he says.</p><p>Sasha shakes her head again. “No, that’s okay. Hange says you’re not supposed to stay back too late. Wages and all.”</p><p>He shrugs. “I’ll clock off then, so you don’t have to pay me,” he insists. “But I’ll help you with your prep.”</p><p>She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. “Why would you do that?” she asks. “Why would you stay back after three in the morning to work for free?”</p><p>He rolls his eyes. “Because I don’t want to see all those strawberries end up in your stomach instead of the pies,” he says. He snatches the knife from her. “Now, shoo. Go do something else. I’ll cut the strawberries.”</p><p>Sasha shrugs but lets him quarter strawberries while she goes on to prep lemons.</p><p>At four-thirty, when he finally hears Connie tell [Name] she can leave, he hands Sasha back her knife.</p><p>“I’ll take you home,” he tells [Name], as she emerges from the staff room with her coat on and her bag slung from her shoulder. “If you’re not driving, I can take you home.”</p><p>[Name] stares at him. “How did you…” she begins, but then shakes her head. “That’s okay. Thanks, but I can take an Uber.”</p><p>He rolls his eyes. “Why would you pay for an Uber when I’m offering to take you home for free?” he asks, making his question sound as pointed as possible, so she understands how stupid she’s being.</p><p>“Because I don’t want to bother you!” she argues. “Levi, this is very nice of you and all, but I –”</p><p>He cuts her off before she can make her argument. “Where do you live?” he asks.</p><p>“Trost,” she replies, “which is pretty far from here, so you don’t have to –”</p><p>“What a coincidence. I live in Trost, too,” he says monotonously. He grabs her hand and drags her behind him. “Let’s go.”</p><p>The restaurant is located in Ehrmich, to the north of Trost, and he lives in Stohess, which is to the north-west of Ehrmich. Taking her home would involve a thirty-minute detour from his normal commute and, by the time he gets home, the sun will be ready to rise. But, of course, he doesn’t tell her all that. Instead, he shoves her in this car, puts on her favourite music on his phone so it plays through the car’s speakers and drives her home in silence.</p><p>“It’s amazing that you live in Trost, too,” she says, as he nears the address she’s given him. “Where exactly do you live? Is it anywhere around here?”</p><p>“Sure,” he tells her. “I live…” he points in a random direction behind him, “three blocks that way.”</p><p>“Oh, do you mean on Maria Street?” she asks curiously. “I have a friend who lives there.”</p><p>“No, the other street,” he says.</p><p>“Rose Street?” she frowns. “But that’s not –”</p><p>“Anyway,” he cuts her off before she can ask more asinine questions. When the car is parked in the driveway of her apartment, he holds out his hand, “Give me your phone.”</p><p>She narrows her eyes but obeys, unlocking her phone and placing it on his palm.</p><p>He quickly types in his number. When he’s adding it to her Contacts, he cheekily thinks of writing “Levi” with a heart next to the name, but obviously doesn’t go through with it. Instead, he types “Levi Paradis Pies” and saves the number, before handing her phone back to her.</p><p>“My number,” he explains, when she shoots him a puzzled look. “Call me if you need a ride to work or anywhere else.”</p><p>Then he remembers that he doesn’t live around the area, and adds, “Give me a thirty-minute heads-up before you do. I’ll want to get ready and all.”</p><p>“Levi,” she begins. “You really don’t have to…”</p><p>He shakes his head. “It’s not safe to travel at this time. You’ll want to be around people you know, not random Uber drivers,” he insists. “And stop wasting your money on Ubers. Money doesn’t grow on fucking trees.”</p><p>A wry smile appears on her face. “Well, either way, I appreciate the gesture,” she says. “Thanks for dropping me home and giving me your number. Here,” she quickly taps on her phone, and within seconds, his phone begins to ring.</p><p>“That’s my number,” she says. “I’ll try not to call you unless I really have to, but at least this way you’ll know it’s me and not some rando.” She slips out of the car. “Good night, Levi.”</p><p>After she leaves, he stares at the number on his screen for a while, before finally tossing his phone onto the passenger seat and driving back home.</p><p>***</p><p>He thinks about texting her all week now that he has her number, but he doesn’t. What would he even say? She hasn’t contacted him yet, so it would be strange and creepy to text her out of the blue. He’s tempted though; several times he pulls his phone out and types “Hey”, before quickly deleting the text.</p><p>In an unprecedented turn of events, he finds himself looking forward to working the last waiter shift. Just two weeks ago he was complaining to Hange about it and was <em>this</em> close to quitting. And now he –</p><p>Well. Speak of the devil. His phone lights up and Hange’s name flashes across the screen.</p><p>“What?” he says, as he answers the phone.</p><p>“Okay, so,” Hange begins, “I know you love me, but you’re going to love me <em>even more</em> after today.”</p><p>“Somehow I doubt that,” he mutters. “What is it?”</p><p>“Jean Kirstein broke up with his partner yesterday!” she says excitedly.</p><p>He allows a five-second pause to pass by before he says, “And I’m supposed to care because…?”</p><p>“Because,” Hange says, “if you remember, Jean works Friday, Saturday and Sunday mornings.”</p><p>“Still not sure how it’s my problem,” he frowns.</p><p>“Leviiiii,” she groans. “Jean worked in the mornings because he wanted to spend weekend evenings with his partner. Now that he’s single, guess who’s available to do your last waiter shifts?”</p><p>Comprehension dawns on him.</p><p>“I already spoke to him,” Hange continues. “I managed to, er, <em>convince</em> him to do your shifts, and let you work days instead. You may begin thanking and praising me now.”</p><p>But he doesn’t thank or praise her. The only thing he can think of is Jean Kirstein, fresh out of a relationship and already on the rebound, with his two-toned hair and horse-like face, attempting to flirt with a certain other employee on that last waiter shift.</p><p>“No,” he says loudly, trying not to panic. “I changed my mind. I still want to be last waiter.”</p><p>“What? Why?” Hange says, annoyed. “You’ve always complained about…”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I’m used to it now,” he says quickly. “You know me, Four-Eyes. I hate change. I’ve already got a routine established and I don’t want to mess it up now. I don’t want Kirstein to do my shifts. I’d like to keep doing them.”</p><p>There is a silence on the line.</p><p>Finally, she says, “Well. If you’re sure.”</p><p>“I am,” he states. “Cancel the swap.”</p><p>“Fine,” Hange says briskly. “I’ll call Jean, then.” She hangs up the phone, and Levi sighs with relief.</p><p>***</p><p>He likes to think they’re friends now. They don’t speak much on their shifts together, but the smile she gives him when he comes in says it all: she’s comfortable in his presence and is glad to know him. He tries to converse with her sometimes, and, to his delight, she reciprocates. She lets him hide from Hange in the back when he needs to and doesn’t tell on him when she comes around looking for him. Yes, they’re friends. And he couldn’t be happier.</p><p>That Saturday, Hange bursts into the back while [Name] and Levi are hard at work.</p><p>At first, he thinks she’s here for him, having found out he’s avoiding her so he doesn’t have to deal with the group of older women Hange is waiting on. But Hange looks at the kitchenhand instead. “Sorry, [Name],” she says apologetically. “Do you mind helping me out for a moment? A customer threw up on the floor, and...”</p><p>Levi does not miss the soft sigh that escapes [Name]. “Yeah, sure,” she replies. “Let me just get a mop.”</p><p>Hange nods gratefully and disappears, but not before shooting Levi an annoyed look. When she’s safely distracted at the cash register, he makes his way back on the floor to check on [Name].</p><p>She’s dutifully mopping up the puke, and he notices that she looks extremely uncomfortable. So he picks up a spray bottle and a cleaning cloth and makes his way to a table near her to find out why. He pretends to wipe it down, even though it isn’t in his section.</p><p>Then he hears a voice to his right. “Damn,” a customer slurs. “Where has Paradis Pies been hiding <em>you?”</em></p><p>He whips his head around and spots a customer in the table next to where [Name] is. The man, who Levi is 150% sure is drunk, is leering at her.</p><p>“How ‘bout you and your fine ass be my server for the night?” he says, his eyes still on her.</p><p>Levi instantly sees red. He trembles with rage, his hand outstretched over the table he’s wiping down. He wants to spray the man in the face with the cleaner, but that wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t be enough.</p><p>He hears Armin call, “Drinks up!” from the bar.</p><p>He abandons his cleaning supplies and quickly makes his way to the bar. Armin has made a large, foamy iced coffee and has placed it on a tray. Varis, another waiter, is already there, attempting to place the tray on his arm.</p><p>“I’ll run this,” he tells Varis. “You go…do something else.”</p><p>“But it’s for my section,” Varis protests. “You don’t…”</p><p>“I got this,” he insists, swiftly placing the tray on his arm. “Go.”</p><p>He’s walking away before Varis can say anything else. He checks the docket on the tray. It’s for Table 14. The drunk shithead is on Table 9.</p><p>He struts up to Table 9, where [Name] is gritting her teeth uncomfortably as she continues to mop. He can tell she’s itching to tell him off, but he also knows she won’t, as she doesn’t want to get into trouble and lose her job. He decides to put her out of her misery.</p><p>When he’s directly next to the man, a smooth flick of his hand topples the drink over, causing it to pour over the man’s head. Some of it splatters on Levi’s chin and shirt, and he curls up his lip uncomfortably.</p><p>“Oops,” he says dryly. “My bad.”</p><p>The man stands up, coffee pouring down his face and foam in his hair. “Why…you…”</p><p>“Terribly sorry about that,” he says smoothly. “The bathroom’s that way, if you want to clean up.”</p><p>The man stares him down, nostrils flaring. Levi stares back, unamused. With a huff of irritation, he marches towards the front door, flipping Hange off on his way out.</p><p>Levi can’t stop the small, proud smile from curling up on his face.</p><p>But Hange is already making her way towards him, and he can tell that she’s NOT happy about this. “Did you just pour an iced coffee on that customer?” she cries.</p><p>“It was an accident,” he insists.</p><p>She groans loudly. “Levi, he left without paying, and I can’t even ask him to come back because of what you did!”</p><p>“An accident,” he repeats.</p><p>“He’s going to leave us bad reviews and complain to management about this!” she wails. She buries her face in her hands, then sighs. “Ugh. Levi. You’re so lucky we’re friends, or you would be in BIG trouble right now.” Massaging her temples, she walks away.</p><p>He shrugs and picks up his cloth to clean the mess he made.</p><p>“Um,” he hears a small voice say, and he turns to find [Name] gazing at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry you got into trouble with Hange.”</p><p>He shrugs. “It was an accident,” he repeats.</p><p>She nods. “I know.” Then, after a pause, she lowers her voice and says, “Although, if we’re being honest, I’m…kinda glad it happened. That guy was saying some weird stuff to me, so I’m not sad to see him go.” Her voice drops to a whisper, “I know it was an accident, but thanks for spilling that drink on him.”</p><p>The grateful smile on her face is worth the scolding from Hange and the coffee splatter on his person.</p><p>***</p><p>On Sunday night, he’s walking to the back with an arm full of dirty glasses when he finds his way blocked by Sasha. Sasha has just arrived for her midnight shift and is chatting with [Name]. Instead of telling her to get the fuck out of his way, like he normally would, he slips behind a wall and strains his ears to catch their conversation.</p><p>“How do you like working here?” Sasha is asking.</p><p>“Oh, great,” [Name] says enthusiastically. “Everyone’s really nice! Like Armin, for example, he’s very kind. He keeps making my favourite flavour milkshakes for me and insisting they’re mistakes. He’s so cute.”</p><p>“And what about Levi?” Sasha asks.</p><p>Even though Mikasa is glaring at him for being in her space, he ignores her and continues to eavesdrop.</p><p>“What about him?” [Name] replies.</p><p>His heart drops. [Name] will go on and talk about Armin at lengths, but has nothing to say about him.</p><p>“What do you think of him?” Sasha presses on.</p><p>Why is Sasha being so nosy? One could argue that she’s always like this, but, as far as he knows, Sasha has never taken an interest in what the previous kitchenhands have thought of him.</p><p>But he’s curious, too. What <em>does</em> [Name] think of him? He knows this is the coward’s way of finding out, but he can’t help himself.</p><p>“Why are you asking me this?” [Name] responds. His heart sinks further. So his suspicions are correct. She thinks nothing of him and is therefore unable to answer Sasha when she asks.</p><p>He smiles bitterly to himself. Well, at least they’re friends, right? He still has that and no one can take it away from him.</p><p>Or so he thinks.</p><p>Sasha laughs loudly. “Um, I’m asking because Levi’s only got the biggest, most obvious crush on you, duh.” She continues to laugh to herself.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>SHIT.</p><p>He grips the stack of glasses he’s holding <em>hard</em>. This is not happening. This can’t be happening.</p><p>Even Mikasa’s glare is more sympathetic now. He swallows hard.</p><p>How did Sasha find out? He hasn’t spoken to anyone about this. Yes, he has a feeling that Armin knew, but he has never discussed it with him. Who told her?</p><p>He bites his lip and continues to eavesdrop. His mind is already forming contingency plans for what to do when he faces [Name] next.</p><p>Despite himself, he still wants to know what her answer to his indirect confession is.</p><p>“What?” [Name] says. “That can’t be. Sasha, stop joking around.”</p><p>And even though he already knows he’s been rejected, he’s disappointed to hear her say that. She thinks this is a joke.</p><p>It’s weird. He has barely even tried, and he has already lost.</p><p>“Oh, [Name],” Sasha says patronisingly. “Pure, sweet [Name]. Haven’t you noticed? Levi HATES this place. You’re the only one he talks to. Like, <em>actually</em> talks to. Besides Hange, of course. And you’re definitely the only one he smiles at. For Sheena’s sake, he spilled a drink on that guy for you yesterday. He keeps asking Armin to make you your favourite milkshake on your shift. He drives you home after work, even though he lives in the opposite direction. What, did you think he was being <em>nice?</em> Levi doesn’t do nice.”</p><p>There is a silence as the weight of Sasha’s words sinks down on everyone who has heard them.</p><p>Levi, however, has had enough. Finally finding his balls, he walks up to Sasha and clears his throat loudly.</p><p>Sasha looks horrified when she faces him. “Shit. Levi. I…”</p><p>But he doesn’t listen to what she has to say. He swiftly puts down the glasses on the bench. Without looking at [Name], he walks away from the scene.</p><p>***</p><p>The atmosphere at work is awkward after that. Pretty soon, only him, [Name], Sasha and Connie are around (and Hange, who doesn’t count as she’s in her office). Every time he walks into the dishes area, he sees [Name] tense up. Sometimes, she’ll open her mouth, as if she wants to say something, but he walks away before she can.</p><p>He knows he’s being a coward and it’s very unlike him, but he’s embarrassed. He’s been forced to confront his feelings and face rejection before being ready and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. All he wants to do is go home and sleep (he’ll be lucky if he manages more than three hours though) and forget this ever happened. Maybe when he wakes up, he’ll apologise to Hange and beg her to swap his shifts again.</p><p>He’s relieved when Sasha tells him she doesn’t need his help anymore. He immediately strides into the staff room and emerges with his coat on, ready to leave.</p><p>However, his path is blocked by [Name], appearing to be pissed-off and, dare he say, <em>hurt.</em></p><p>“Excuse me,” he says quietly. “I need to leave.”</p><p>But she doesn’t budge.</p><p>“You’re ignoring me, aren’t you?” she asks.</p><p>He looks away. He cannot bring himself to meet her eyes.</p><p>She sighs. Then, she says, “I’m assuming you heard everything Sasha said. Was it true?”</p><p>As much as he would rather keep ignoring her and head straight home, deep down, he knows he can’t let it end like this. If he were to cut her out of his life, she at least deserves to know why.</p><p>He forces himself to look at her. “So what if it is?” he says quietly.</p><p>He expects her to look annoyed, exasperated, or worse, <em>sympathetic.</em> To his surprise, she’s relieved.</p><p>“That’s – I’m glad,” she breathes. “I was afraid it wasn’t…I thought she was joking…”</p><p>He frowns. This wasn’t supposed to happen. “You don’t look upset.”</p><p>[Name] shakes her head. “I’m not,” she says. “I…at first, I thought Sasha was teasing me. I thought she found out about my feelings for you and was mocking me for it…”</p><p>His breath hitches. Did he hear that correctly? Did she mean what he thinks she did?</p><p>She gives him a small smile. “What I mean is,” she says, “I’m glad to know my feelings are returned.”</p><p>He blinks at her in shock.</p><p>After twenty-five seconds, when he remembers how to breathe again, he goes back into the staff room.</p><p>“Where are you going?” she calls after him.</p><p>He slips off his jacket and hangs it up. “Hurry up and finish,” he tells her when he’s back outside. “I can’t stick around forever to drive your ass home.”</p><p>She grins at him and gets back to work.</p><p>***</p><p>For two people who, barely a couple of hours ago, confessed their feelings to each other, the ride home is very quiet. It’s a good kind of quiet, if you ask him. The music is on and [Name] is humming along to the song. Even though his eyes are on the road, he can’t help sneaking glances at her out of the corner of his eye. Her side profile is beautiful and he’s unable to contain his smile at her humming.</p><p>When he’s outside her apartment, she does not rush out of his car, like she usually does. Instead, she looks at him seriously.</p><p>“Levi,” she says. “I…if what Sasha said is true, and you’re saying it is, then…I want to say thank you. Thank you for looking out for me. Thank you for always going out of your way to help.” She reaches forward and clasps his hand.</p><p>His heart pounds loudly against his chest. He’s never been one for showing affection, but he squeezes her hand hard. With a smile, he whispers, “Anytime.”</p><p>She nods. She leans forward and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.</p><p>He stops breathing. Is it possible to be this happy?</p><p>“Good night, Levi,” she says, slipping out of his car.</p><p>He stares at her retreating form, savouring it. He can still feel the softness of her lips on his cheek and the warmth of her hand in his.</p><p>If this is what a mere kiss on his cheek and a touch of her hand feels like, he can’t wait to spend more time with her, outside work and feel this way all the time.</p><p>***</p><p>As soon as he’s all showered up and ready for bed, he gets a chance to do something he’s been wanting to do all week.</p><p>
  <strong>You</strong>
</p><p>Hey</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>[Name]</strong>
</p><p>Hey :)</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>You</strong>
</p><p>What are you doing tomorrow evening?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>[Name]</strong>
</p><p>Working on my assignment at home</p><p>What’s up?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>You</strong>
</p><p>There’s a coffee shop not far from where you live</p><p>I’ve been there before</p><p>Their tea is decent, surprisingly</p><p>Would you like to study with me there instead?</p><p>I wouldn’t mind your company</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>[Name]</strong>
</p><p>It’s a date then</p><p>See you tomorrow, Levi ❤️</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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